


Strong Coffee and Sourdough

by enchantedsleeper



Category: The Strange Case of Starship Iris (Podcast)
Genre: (If it's still February it counts), Author also does not condone shooting your nemesis in the face with an air rifle, Author does not know how American colleges work and is very much winging it, College AU (sort of - everyone is faculty/staff), Even when that nemesis is Ricky Q, F/M, Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchantedsleeper/pseuds/enchantedsleeper
Summary: It's not the first time that Sana has woken up in a strange bed with a pounding hangover.It might be the first time that it's led to her proposing to someone over sourdough, though.
Relationships: Arkady Patel & Sana Tripathi, Brian Jeeter & Sana Tripathi, Ignatius Campbell/Sana Tripathi, Violet Liu/Arkady Patel (background)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Strong Coffee and Sourdough

**Author's Note:**

> NEEDLESS TO SAY, THIS FIC IS A LITTLE BIT LATE. I wasn't even planning to write a Valentine's Day fic this year because between the Band AU that I'm working on for the [Fiction Podcast Bang](https://podcastbigbang.tumblr.com/) and [certain other fics that I still have yet to update](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20113996), I figured I had enough ongoing projects.
> 
> And then my brain went "but what if... Sana and Campbell.... and sourdough?" and I went "God damn it, you're right." This was mostly written before Episode 4 gave us that good, good shippy content (and before we found out that Campbell's nephews are (almost certainly) canonically older than I chose to write them in this fic), but I managed to work in a reference to Campbell's surprisingly good coffee at the end. ;)
> 
> This is a college AU of sorts, in the sense that all of the characters are adults and not students - most are faculty/staff, though Sana is a mechanic and Krejjh is a *mumble mumble I didn't really commit to a profession for them but alluded to them writing poetry*. As you might already know (or have guessed from the tags), I am not American, and I wasn't intending to go super detailed or realistic with the setting for a quickie Valentine's Day fic, though it ended up featuring more heavily than I'd originally planned. Even so, I didn't want to make a whole production out of getting someone to check it over for me, so please just bear with me if there are any inaccuracies, and hopefully they're not too glaring!

It’s been a while since Sana has had the experience of waking up in a strange bed with a throbbing hangover.

She comes to slowly, and then all at once, groaning as she opens her eyes to bright light streaming through a gap in the curtains. As she brings one arm up defensively to shield her eyes, her elbow brushes up against something warm. Another person. Sana freezes.

Very slowly, she turns her head – and lets out a huge breath of relief as she recognises the sleeping profile of her best friend. “Arkady,” she says, fondly, even though she knows from experience that the other woman will be completely dead to the world. Arkady is a light sleeper normally, but after a night of drinking (and the strength of Sana’s hangover tells her there was _plenty_ of drinking) it’s as if her body takes the opportunity to make up for the lost rest.

Arkady’s hand is resting on the pillow next to her, and Sana frowns as she takes in some bruising on Arkady’s knuckles, visible even in the gloom. What the hell happened last night? Very little is managing to penetrate the thick pounding in Sana’s head – she remembers that they were at a house party, hosted by someone she vaguely knows who works in the university administration. Gregory…? No, Gregor. Red Gregor. Brian had found out about the invite from Park, and they’d all decided to go along – except for Violet, who’d been helping with some monitoring in the labs overnight – because it had been a while since they’d all had the chance to get together and relax.

Sana is being vividly reminded of all the reasons they’d stopped doing this once they hit their late 20s and early 30s. She hasn’t been this hung over in what – four years, maybe five?

She pushes the mystery of Arkady’s bruised knuckles to the back of her mind, something to ask about when her friend is finally conscious. For now, she can smell coffee, and everything else has abruptly taken a back seat to discovering its source.

She gets out of bed, noticing that she’s still wearing her outfit from the night before, the sky blue blouse and dark trousers a little crooked and creased. At least she has the sense to take off her jewellery, which is laid neatly a side table on top of a folded dark sweater that she doesn’t recognise. Sana moves her earrings and pile of bangles and unfolds the sweater, which has the university logo on it and smells faintly of aftershave.

Someone must have given it to her to wear before she went to sleep – presumably the same someone who owns the guest bedroom that she and Arkady are both crashing in. Sana pulls the sweater over her head (it’s worn, soft and hangs loosely around her, evidently worn by someone with much wider shoulders) and goes to look for their mysterious benefactor.

It’s a smallish apartment, the kind that Sana imagines would belong to someone working a teaching or admin job at the university, maybe someone who recently moved to the city. She spots a bathroom, the door cracked open, and makes a beeline for it to use the toilet, wash up a bit and rinse her mouth out. A glance in the mirror confirms that Sana looks as wrecked as she feels; she runs her fingers through her tangled hair and uses some wet tissue paper to clean off the last of her smudged makeup.

The bathroom is clean and neat but doesn’t have many other distinguishing features – except for, curiously, a row of brightly-coloured rubber ducks lined up behind the sink, and what looks like a plastic baby bathtub leaning against one wall – does the owner of this house have kids? Sana tries to think if she’s ever met anyone with young children in her friends’ circles, but she’s drawing a blank. Maybe the person who lives here is a caretaker or has relatives that they babysit.

The scent of coffee is even stronger now, and Sana thinks she can hear humming. She makes her way down the corridor to what can only be the kitchen, and slowly pushes the door open. “Uh, good morning.”

“Hey!” The man at the kitchen counter half-turns, favouring Sana with a bright smile. She instantly feels more at ease, though she isn’t sure what she did, between getting so drunk at a party that she needed to crash at a stranger’s house and appearing the next morning looking like she’s been dragged through a hedge backwards, to earn that kind of expression. “You’re awake. Come sit down – I made coffee. _Strong_ coffee.”

His voice is wonderful, melodious and full of humour. Sana catches herself thinking this and wonders if it’s appropriate to be thinking it about someone she’s just met (though, did they just meet? Surely there must have been some kind of conversation that led to her and Arkady winding up here? Sana can’t remember _anything_ ), and decides to chalk it up to her hangover. That, and the word ‘coffee’.

“Thank you so much. I guess it must be pretty obvious how much I need it,” Sana says ruefully as she sits down at the kitchen table, which is a plain light wood. One or two coasters sit on top of it: they’re made of colourful clay, and slightly wonky and misshapen, like they were handmade in a child’s art class.

“I think anyone would, after last night,” the man says lightly, no judgement in his voice. “Is your friend awake yet?”

“Not yet. I think she’ll emerge in a half hour so. Maybe sooner if the coffee filters through to her senses,” Sana jokes, and the man laughs. He turns, holding a mug of coffee that looks reassuringly pitch black.

“Do you take milk or cream? Sugar?”

“Just black is fine, thanks,” Sana says, trying not to look like she’s on the verge of making grabbing motions at the coffee. The man smiles like he’s noticed this, and brings the mug over, setting it on one of the misshapen coasters.

“One of my nephews’ art projects,” he says, nodding at it. “Pretty impressive for a six-year-old, right? Kid’s good with his hands – it runs in the family, I guess.” He grins, and the pride is clear in his expression.

 _Nephews._ So, that explains the rubber ducks and the bathtub. Sana means to ask how many nephews he has, but what comes out instead is, “Do you work with your hands a lot?” She feels herself flush brightly and covers it up by taking a drink of coffee. God, the coffee tastes incredible.

Her host shrugs easily. “Well, culinary arts teacher, you know how it is. Speaking of which – are you hungry? Because I made a fresh batch of sourdough the other day, and I don’t like to brag, but it came out pretty well. I can warm some up for you.”

“Oh my god, marry me,” Sana blurts out, and then claps a hand over her mouth. What is wrong with her this morning?? Okay, so the guy is warm and funny and generous, a doting uncle, _and_ he can cook – but there’s no reason to come on _quite_ so strong. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name and here I am proposing marriage. Yes to the sourdough, please. If it’s not a bother.”

An odd expression comes over the man’s face, but it passes before Sana’s sluggish brain can parse it. “Ignatius Campbell, but you can call me Campbell,” he says. “And coming right up.” He opens a bread bin on the counter and takes out a paper-wrapped loaf of bread and a knife.

Sana searches for something to fill the slightly awkward silence that’s suddenly opened up. “So, uh, how do you know Red Gregor?”

“Oh, Red and I go way back,” Campbell says, expertly slicing off some of the sourdough. Even his bread-slicing technique is perfect – Sana has never managed to hand-slice bread without a shower of crumbs and a very awkwardly wedge-shaped result. “I’ve been best man at both his weddings. We met at college, kept in touch after – I moved around a lot, turned my hand to different things. Eventually he told me about an opening at the university where he worked for a culinary arts teacher, and it had the added bonus of being nearer to my sister and the kids, so here I am.” He slides two pieces of bread into the toaster.

“That sounds pretty eventful,” Sana comments. “I bet you’ve got a few stories to tell.”

Campbell smiles at her, bringing down another mug from a cupboard and pouring some more coffee for himself. “Well, no more than the usual. But what about yourself? I know you don’t work at the university. Red has a habit of drawing people into his orbit, though, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that you were at the party.”

Sana laughs a little. “Well, no, I’m not faculty – I actually run a repairs shop just off campus. I can fix pretty much anything, but somehow I find myself spending most of my time changing the oil for students who never learned to take care of their own cars.” She shouldn’t complain, since the repairs keep her in business, but it pains her to see so many kids who didn’t know how to do basic maintenance.

“So, good with your hands, then?” Campbell asks slyly, and Sana laughs at the way he’s turned her own comment back on her.

“I have my moments,” she says, blushing again and taking yet another sip of coffee to cover it up. “Uh, so the invite to Red Gregor’s party actually came through Brian. He’s a professor in the linguistics department.”

“Wait, as in Brian Jeeter?” Sana nods, and Campbell leans back against the counter as if absorbing this revelation. The sourdough pops up, and Campbell takes down a plate and piles the slices of bread onto it. “I could have sworn he was a TA. He can’t be older than mid-twenties.”

“Twenty-six, and he’s a bit of a prodigy,” Sana tells him. “Youngest professor at the university. God, this smells amazing, thank you,” she adds as Campbell slides the plate of sourdough over to her, along with some butter and a knife. Campbell looks pleased at the compliment.

“Arkady also works at the university, doing IT support and systems security,” Sana adds, inclining her head towards the kitchen door to indicate who she means. “Her partner, Violet, is in the biology department.” Confusingly, there is also a Violet Liu in the computing department who is an infosec specialist. She and Arkady don’t get along, exactly, but they have a grudging mutual respect for each other, and the other Violet enjoys challenging her infosec students to find vulnerabilities in the university’s notoriously impenetrable firewalls. She’s tried persuading Arkady to teach a class, without any luck so far. Arkady’s self-conscious about her self-taught status, and disdainful about higher education in general. Sana thinks Violet might be the only reason she still puts up with working at a university at all.

“Then there’s Park and McCabe – I think Park and Red Gregor know each other from back when Park was in the admin department, but he helps oversee the sports centre now. And McCabe runs the shooting range.” Sana concludes her recital and takes a bite of the sourdough she’s been buttering. Her eyes flutter closed involuntarily, and she doesn’t make a noise, but it’s a close run thing. God, Campbell’s not just a cook, he’s an _incredible_ cook. She feels less weird about the pseudo-proposal now. Sourdough this good is worth marrying someone for.

“Wow, it sounds like you guys are quite the family,” Campbell says, and he sounds a little wistful.

 _There’s always room for one more,_ Sana wants to say, but manages to hold herself back this time.

“And yeah, I know Park – vaguely, anyway. Eyepatch guy, right?”

Sana nods.

“What about…” Campbell looks hesitant, suddenly, the first time he’s seemed less than sure of himself. “You and Arkady seemed to have a connection with someone who was at the party last night. Ricky someone?”

“Oh my god,” Sana says, dropping the half-slice of sourdough she’s holding onto. “Ricky Q was there?” But even as she says it, she remembers – flashes, anyway: Ricky, disdainful and sneering, his nose bleeding from Arkady’s punch. Sana pulling Arkady off him – not because he didn’t deserve every bit of it, but because she could be fired for attacking the son of the university’s biggest donor. Red Gregor, intervening, telling Ricky to leave. She can’t remember exactly what happened after that, but she can guess.

“You offered us a place to stay,” she says, looking at Campbell for confirmation. He shrugs awkwardly.

“I had a place that was nearby, and you both seemed to want to get out of there as quickly as possible,” he says. “Red Gregor said your truck would be safe at his place, and you could swing by to pick it up anytime.”

“Thank you, Campbell,” Sana says, touched. She’s still surprised that someone who barely knew either of them would offer up his home – especially after watching them get into a fight – but maybe that’s just the kind of guy that Campbell is. She wonders what had happened to Brian, Krejjh and Park – maybe they’d left the party earlier. Oh god, she hasn’t even checked her phone yet. She’s going to have _so_ many messages.

“I know it’s none of my business what happened,” Campbell says, and Sana remembers that he’d asked about how they knew Ricky Q. “But that guy seems like bad news, and I like to avoid people who are bad news.”

Sana scoffs a little, picking at the last of the sourdough on her plate. “That’s one way of putting it.” She hesitates over what to say. It’s not really her story to tell, and she normally wouldn’t have any qualms about telling anyone who asked to drop the subject. But Campbell had offered his home to them purely because they needed somewhere to go, and Sana has this feeling that he’ll understand better than some people would.

“Short version is that Ricky Q’s family – the Cresswin family – are wealthy real estate owners,” she says, quietly. “When Arkady was a teenager, they bought up the apartment complex that her family lived in – not a great place to grow up, but people did the best they could. But instead of improving things for everyone who lived there, they wanted to evict them all. Renovate the complex, turn into a luxury apartment block to be rented out to billionaires and the like.” Sana knows her bitterness and frustration are audible. “Most of them didn’t have any place to go – so they tried to organise, withhold rent in protest. Ricky Q showed up, saying he didn’t agree with what his family was doing, and offered to help.

“The tenants were wary, but he seemed sincere, he helped them co-ordinate, so they trusted him. He was going to go public about his involvement – go against his family, get them some media coverage and give their story real publicity. But then, at the last second, he went behind their backs – and the story that the media wound up running was a very different one to what they’d expected.” Campbell’s face darkens at that. “Ricky claimed that he wasn’t his fault the media ran with the story they did, but – you can imagine how that went over. A local housing organisation offered some support, but it wasn’t enough to keep the residents from being evicted – just to help them deal with it.”

“Jesus,” Campbell says. “After hearing that, I’m surprised all she did was punch him.”

“She might’ve done worse, if I hadn’t pulled her off,” Sana admits. “It wasn’t for his sake – his family is unfortunately one of the biggest donors to the university. Arkady could lose her job if he makes a complaint to the wrong person.”

Campbell draws a hand over his face. “I’m no stranger to bullshit systems, but that doesn’t mean they don’t make me angry,” he says. “I’ve no idea why he showed up at Red Gregor’s, though. I’ve never heard of him before, and he’s not the type of person that Red would associate with if he could help it. Trust me on that.”

Sana shrugs tiredly. “Ricky has a tendency of showing up where he’s not wanted,” she says. She drains the last of her coffee, and Campbell wordlessly offers her the pot. Sana smiles gratefully and holds her mug out for a refill.

“If there’s anything I can do to help…” Campbell says. He sounds completely sincere, and it does something strange to Sana’s heart. She knows she has a tendency to trust people too easily; but it feels like it means something, that Campbell listened to her tell this story – a woman he’s known for all of a night, though it feels like longer than that – and even though there’s nothing in it for him, he genuinely wants to help.

“You’ve honestly helped us a lot already,” Sana says. “And I really can’t thank you enough for that. We’ll figure something out – it’s not the first time we’ve been in a bind.”

“Well, in the meantime…” Campbell turns back to the countertop and pulls the cutting board towards him. “More sourdough?”

* * *

Arkady tiredly shuffles into the kitchen about ten minutes later, as Campbell is in the middle of brewing another pot of coffee. They’ve moved on to talking about anything and everything; Sana has discovered how many nephews Campbell has (three: the eldest is six, the second is four and the youngest is a year old) and that, in a weird coincidence, the two of them grew up not that far from each other. Campbell is in the middle of telling some of the stranger and funnier stories from his Culinary Arts classes when Arkady enters the room.

“So I told the kid to turn out his pockets,” Campbell is saying, as Sana laughs, “and they were just full of tomatoes! He must’ve had at least eight of them in there! Maybe more. I told him, if he was going to be stealing my tomatoes, I would at least teach him how to make ratatouille with them.” Sana laughs harder at that.

“Morning,” Arkady says from the doorway, and both of them look over. “This looks cosy.”

“Hey, g’morning,” Campbell says easily. “Hope you’re not feeling too rough? There’s coffee.”

“Coffee would be good,” admits Arkady, making her way over to the kitchen table. “You’re Campbell, right?”

“That’s me.”

Sana is wondering how Arkady apparently knows who Campbell is when she didn’t – did she have _that_ much to drink last night? – when Arkady says, “Red Gregor talks about you a lot.”

“Only good things, I hope,” Campbell jokes. Arkady smirks.

“It’s a variety.” She pulls out her phone from her pocket, its screen dark and unresponsive. “You wouldn’t happen to have a charger, would you?”

“Sure,” Campbell says, holding out his hand for Arkady’s phone. As he retrieves a charger and plugs Arkady’s phone in at the wall, Sana says to Arkady in an undertone,

“Did you sleep okay?”

Arkady shrugs. “Sure, for all it’s helping with my hangover. Seems like you’re having a good time, though. Did I interrupt something?”

Sana splutters. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Arkady raises her eyebrows slightly. “I just mean, if I’m gonna be a third wheel…”

“Third- okay, if we want to talk third wheels, how about every time that you and Violet-”

“Uh, Arkady?” Campbell’s voice cuts in before Sana can finish. “Your phone’s ringing.”

He tilts the phone screen so that she can see it; the screen reads, ‘Violet Liu calling’ with a picture of Violet that looks like it was taken from a joint selfie. She’s smiling, her arm around someone out of shot, and flashing a peace sign at the camera.

 _“Shit,”_ Arkady swears under her breath as Sana smirks.

“I think you’d better pick up.”

Arkady doesn’t move, staring at the phone as if it will magically stop ringing and solve her problems for her.

“C’mon, she’s not going to be mad at you,” Sana says.

“No, she won’t be mad, she’ll be _worried_ ,” Arkady says. “Really worried.”

“Hey,” Sana says, reassuring now, because she knows that even after two years Arkady still frets about her relationship with Violet. “Violet trusts you. If she didn’t know what was going on and couldn’t get a hold of you, she would’ve called Brian or Krejjh.” _Or me,_ she mentally adds, thinking guilty of her own phone, lying neglected at the bottom of her bag. “Just explain what happened, and let her know you’re okay.”

Arkady nods grimly, and goes over to take the phone from Campbell. Sana and Campbell both do their best not to eavesdrop, Campbell clattering around and pouring more coffee and cutting Sana another slice of sourdough. She’s already so full, but it’s hard to say no.

Eventually, Arkady says, “Yeah. Talk soon. Okay. Be safe,” and hangs up the phone. She exhales, and Sana looks at her enquiringly.

“She talked to Brian and Krejjh, who heard from Red Gregor where we were,” Arkady summarises. “But she also heard about – what happened, and she was worried about _that_ more than anything.” Sana winces and nods.

“Here,” Campbell says, handing Arkady a mug of coffee. “I didn’t know how you take it, but-”

“Anything’s fine,” Arkady says. “Thanks.”

“Listen,” Sana says to her. “We’ll figure out what to do about-”

“Yeah, I know,” Arkady interrupts tiredly. “I’ll suck it up or lay low or – whatever, can we just… not talk about this yet?”

“Okay,” Sana says, willing to give Arkady some space, particularly after she’s just woken up. “But seriously, Violet will be okay. And if she’s not,” Sana’s tone turns sly. “You can always make it up to her on Friday.”

Arkady goes still for a couple of seconds, until the significance of ‘Friday’ comes back to her. “Oh _god,”_ she says, raising her coffee mug like she’d be happy to drown herself in it.

At Campbell’s quizzical look, Sana explains, “Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah,” Campbell says, sympathetic. “Not sure what to do yet?”

“I don’t really do… romantic gestures,” Arkady says, then looks like she isn’t even sure why she’s talking about this. “I think the whole day is full of crap, but… Violet likes it.”

“You don’t have to go overboard,” Sana tells her, like she has done every other time they’ve had this conversation. “Just do something nice together.”

“Yeah, but what does that _mean?”_

“I’ve always found you can’t go wrong with a good picnic,” Campbell offers. When Arkady squints up at him, he shrugs. “It’s a classic, but you can personalise it too.”

“Hey, yeah – you guys both like to go for walks in the woods,” Sana says, warming to the idea. “You can do that, but make it romantic.”

“Sure, except I have no idea how to make a picnic,” Arkady says. “We didn’t really… do that when I was a kid.”

“I can recommend a few things,” Campbell offers. “If you want advice.”

Arkady hesitates, clearly torn between her dislike of opening up – about romance most of all – as well as her aversion to taking advice from anyone, and her need to find something – _anything_ – to do for Valentine’s Day. She glances at Sana, who holds up her hands.

“You’d be better off taking advice from Campbell than me,” she says. “You know I can’t cook. Of course, if you’d rather ask Brian…”

Arkady instantly makes up her mind. “Sure. Let’s hear it.”

* * *

Sana spends the next few days waiting for the other shoe to drop on the Ricky Q Situation. She doesn’t think that Ricky will lodge a complaint against Arkady right away – it seems much more his style to use the leverage that it would give him to his advantage. Even so, Red Gregor promises her, through Park, that he’ll keep an eye out for anything that comes via the Administrations office. (Sana would have liked her contact with Red Gregor to be through Campbell, but she didn’t manage to work up the courage to ask for his number before she and Arkady left that day. She was kind of hoping that Campbell would ask for hers, but he hadn’t).

She and Arkady have a brief conversation about it, during which Arkady states that they may as well “deal with the shit when it hits the fan”, and that it’s “not worth wasting any more time or energy” on Ricky Q until then, both of which seem like fair sentiments. Strangely, though, nothing happens.

Sana drops by the university one day to meet Arkady for lunch; she’s running early, so she stops by Brian’s office first to say hi.

“Hey dude, come in,” Brian says when she knocks on the door. “You here to meet Arkady for lunch?”

Brian’s office is in cheerful disarray, stacks of papers and books piled around in a way that looks disorganised, though Sana knows that he could instantly locate the right volume or piece of research if he needed it. He looks like he’s in the middle of doing some grading, which is probably why he’s happy for the distraction. Sana shifts a textbook off the chair on the other side of the desk and perches on it.

“Yeah, we’re going to grab a sandwich from that new place that opened up across the campus,” Sana says. “Also, I think Arkady wanted some last-minute help with organising her surprise for Violet tomorrow.” When Brian looks puzzled, she adds, “Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh! Right, I almost forgot it was tomorrow. Man, is Arkady really doing something for Valentine’s this year?” Brian asks, entertained. “Never thought I’d see that day.”

Sana smiles. “A little under duress, but I think she’s secretly looking forward to it. What are you and Krejjh doing for tomorrow? Got any plans?”

“Yup! We’re planning an all-night soap opera marathon,” Brian says proudly. “Eight hours of the best and cheesiest dramas the internet has to offer. We’re making movie-style snacks and drinks – it’s gonna be awesome.”

Sana laughs. “That sounds like you two.” She can’t help feeling a little wistful. Sana doesn’t normally feel left out on Valentine’s Day – she’s happy for her friends, and she sees it as an opportunity to spend some quality time on her own, doing some of the things she likes best. A few years back, she and Arkady would have spent it together, getting cheerfully drunk and watching terrible, trashy horror movies as an antidote to the general sappiness of the occasion – but Sana would much rather have Arkady be happy with Violet, who is definitely one of the more positive things to have happened in Arkady’s life over the last few years, than have their old tradition back. It’s just one day in the year, after all.

Brian’s phone chimes, and he briefly checks the screen, and then starts snorting with laughter. “Oh, man.”

“What?” asks Sana.

“Uh, so… That Ricky Q guy that showed up to Red Gregor’s party, the one you stopped Arkady from whaling on?” says Brian. Sana nods, wondering where this could possibly be going. “Well, Red and Park managed to pull some strings via their contacts in the admin office, and persuaded the Cresswin family that it would be a good idea for their youngest son to do some publicity. Y’know, earn some goodwill. Their reputation isn’t the greatest at the moment, and Ricky’s been kind of in the doghouse lately – that start-up he funded is being scrutinised for some shady dealings – so he doesn’t really have a choice but to play nice.”

“So… what is he being made to do?” Sana asks.

“Well, someone might have suggested that he chaperone a group of kids who’ve come to tour the university, and Park and McCabe volunteered to give a demonstration on the shooting range,” Brian says cheerfully. “But, y’know, Park’s aim isn’t what it used to be, what with the eyepatch and all. A few bullets might have gone astray during the demonstration – non-lethal, obviously, they’re just air rifles, but they hurt like hell. Which is unfortunate, because Ricky Q also wasn’t wearing safety equipment. Apparently he thought that he was ‘above it’.”

Sana stares at him. “Brian, are you saying that Park _shot_ Ricky Q during a shooting range demonstration?”

“I mean, I’m not _not_ saying that,” Brian replies. “But y’know, just hypothetically, there might have been some bruises. Kind of looks similar to being punched in the face – which, of course, none of us would know anything about, either. But hypothetically, if Ricky Q tried to complain about a certain recent incident at a party – which no-one who was there witnessed – Park and McCabe are willing to testify to the bruises having come from Ricky’s recent shooting range accident. The kids, too.”

“Oh my god,” Sana says. Part of her – a very small part of her – wants to be disapproving at the way her friends have gone about exacting revenge on Ricky Q. If she’d known about the plan, she probably would have felt duty-bound to dissuade them from it, which is probably exactly why none of them told her.

A much bigger part is delighted, amused, and impressed at the level of meticulous planning that went into it. “Does Arkady know about all of this?”

“She didn’t know about the plan before it happened,” Brian replies. “Plausible deniability, you know. But uh, Park might have sent her some pictures.”

Sana gives in and laughs helplessly. “Oh my god. You guys…” She shakes her head. “You know I don’t condone shooting people in the face with air rifles. Even Ricky Q.”

“Of course,” Brian says, nodding. “But ya know, accidents happen. I’m sure Park feels really bad about it.”

“I’ll have to thank him,” says Sana. “For handling the situation so professionally, that is.”

“I’m sure he’d like that,” Brian says.

They chat aimlessly about other things for a few minutes, including the latest volume of poetry that Krejjh has been working on, when Brian says, “So, you and that Campbell guy looked like you were hitting it off at Red Gregor’s party. And Arkady said he let you guys crash at your place after? That was cool of him. Are you gonna see him again?”

“Wait, what do you mean, we ‘looked like we were hitting it off’?” Sana asks him, confused. Brian frowns.

“Uh, you guys were talking for half the night. It just seemed like you were really getting along…” Brian takes in the stunned expression on Sana’s face. “Do you not… remember?”

“I…” Sana thinks back to the party. Her own lack of memory about that night, and how exactly they came to be staying at Campbell’s. Campbell’s expression when she’d said that she didn’t know his name. “Shit.”

She checks the time on her phone and jumps to her feet. “Sorry, Brian, I’ve gotta run, Arkady’ll be waiting for me, but – thanks. For telling me that.”

“Sure, no problem,” Brian says, a little bemused but as always, willing to roll with it. “See ya later.”

* * *

Sana feels surprisingly nervous as she waits outside the culinary arts lab the next day. It’s just before lunch break, and she’s expecting a small crowd of students to pour into the corridor any minute now, which will be her cue to go in and find Campbell in the hopes that they can talk.

She’d been tempted to seek him out as soon as she’d finished her lunch with Arkady the day before, but she was already late getting back to work as it was, so she settled for stopping by the Administration office and confirming with Red Gregor that Campbell would be teaching the next day. He’d given her a strange look, but she had a feeling he knew why she was asking.

The door to the lab opens, and Sana steps back as students dressed in white kitchen uniforms – many of them splattered with various food stains – pile out in ones and twos, chattering and laughing. None of them gives her a second glance. After what seems to be the last student has left the lab, Sana waits for a few moments, and then cautiously pokes her head around the door in case any of them hung back to talk to Campbell one-on-one.

Campbell is alone inside, and Sana realises with delight that he’s wearing a chef’s hat with his own kitchen uniform. He’s frowning at a stain on the floor between the preparation tables.

“Campbell, hey,” Sana says to draw attention to herself, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu from when she walked into Campbell’s kitchen on Sunday morning, after the party. Campbell looks up in surprise.

“Sana,” he says, a smile breaking across his face. “What brings you to my lab?”

“I was in the neighbourhood,” Sana says lightly. “Thought I might stop by and see where you work! Everything’s very – chrome,” she adds, gesturing to the gleaming equipment and preparation tables.

Campbell snorts. “Yeah, only thanks to our cleaning staff. If it was left up to the students…” He shakes his head. “Some of them are gonna get a rude awakening when they enter the workplace. As it is, I feel like I have to buy our cleaners a box of chocolates every year as thanks for their sacrifice.” Sana laughs, and Campbell grins. “So – what can I do for you?”

“Um…” Sana tucks her hair behind one ear, a nervous gesture she’s never been able to get rid of. “Well. I met up with Brian yesterday, and he mentioned something about Saturday night… It seems that I forgot a lot more than I realised,” she finishes, apologetically.

Campbell grimaces. “Yeah, I figured. Not gonna lie, I was hoping that I made more of an impression than that.”

Sana cringes. “Campbell, I’m so sorry, I – it’s been a long time since I’d been to any kind of party, and I guess my limits aren’t what they used to be,” she confesses. “Trust me, forgetting a night spent with you? Not something that I would have wanted to do under any circumstances.”

Campbell purses his lips together, like he’s trying not to smile and failing, and his eyes are dancing with humour. “At least the sourdough was more memorable, I hope?”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short,” Sana says. “Your coffee was also surprisingly good.”

Campbell takes a couple of steps and closes the distance between them, and Sana finds herself holding her breath. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” he says, quietly. Sana realises that it is, and that she’d completely forgotten. “Do you have any plans later?”

“I was sort of planning to spend it binge-watching old comedy movies, and trying to forget what day it was,” Sana admits. “But I’m open to a better offer.”

Campbell pretends to draw back a little. “Well, hey, that sounds like a great idea – don’t let me stop you from-”

“Oh, come here,” Sana says in mock exasperation, and pulls Campbell back in, tilting her head up just a fraction to bring their lips together. Campbell is smiling into the kiss.

After they break apart, Campbell says, “Come over later? I’ll even bake some more sourdough.”

“It’s a date,” Sana tells him.

Campbell gives her a look that’s so fond, Sana almost can’t handle it, and she pulls him down again for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case it's not clear - the administration department in this fic is not designed to be a stand-in for the IGR. The IGR doesn't exist in this universe; I just had Red Gregor work for the admin department because it seemed fitting (he prints IDs!) and it made sense as a former job for Park as well.


End file.
